MidasMan

Wake up Samurai....we have a New World to burn.

A little interlude to tide you over for the next chapter proper and to advance some world building at the same time!

As dawn broke, Kami Miyako was in a state of mourning.

The night previous His Holiness, Pontiff Maximus Castrum the Second, passed away in his sleep. While hardly a surprise, being a venerable one hundred and two, his death spurned mass displays of mourning and lamentations across the Slane Theocracy. Most stores had closed their doors for the day and even offensives against the Elf Kingdom were put on hold just so the people could properly pay their respects to the vicar of the faithful.

But, from the grief and sadness, a spark of light. The College of Cardinals was set to convene the following day to anoint a new Pontiff Maximus, the most likely of the candidates being the former Pontiff’s own grandson, Castylan Pra Ai Epoc.

One could even say the vote was already decided and the electoral mechanisms simply needed to catch up with reality.

And yet…

“His Holiness will see you now,” a pontiff guard gestured for the Captain to follow him deep into the inner sanctum of the Gods’ Basilica.

For Castylan Pra Ai Epoc was not some unknown young man thrust into the light as the most probable successor to the late Castrum the Second, but the very same Pontiff the masses of the Theocracy were mourning. While understanding the reason behind the deception His Holiness was doing, even agreeing with it, he still lamented the need for such theatrics to deceive the faithful.

If only they lived in a world where the existence of godkin need not be hidden from the masses. But in His Holiness’s own words, “how would the rest of the world react to an ageless ruler?” Illusions masked Castrum’s lack of aging, actors played his role when he assumed the guise of his ‘grandson’, and soon this song and dance would be over and the governing of the Theocracy would hardly change.

Reaching His Holiness’s private study the guard lightly knocked on the door, waited several seconds, then opened and gestured for the Captain to come inside.

Rather than dripping with the opulence one might find in the royal courts of Re-Estize or the Empire, His Holiness’s office was rather small and austere for one of his rank and pedigree.

At the far end of the study, beyond musky old tombs, papers detailing all manners of civil and military matters, magical lamps that hummed with a soft light, sat a still living Castrum the Second. Though the Captain supposed the title will be Castrum the Third after tomorrow. He was taking over for his ‘grandfather’ after all.

Regardless of titles, the man of one hundred and twenty-one didn’t look a day over thirty. Pale blue hair framed his almost glowing sapphire like eyes, giving His Holiness an almost angelic look. Garbed in simple white-blue robes, the only real display of wealth on his person were his multitude of rings. Nearly all were deceptively simple in appearance, being little more than thin bands of exotic metals, yet each hummed with potent magical energy.

The only exception to this was His Holiness’s Pontiff Signet Ring, a silver ring with the crest of the Theocracy imprinted upon a sapphire in white. Unlike the others, the Captain did know what it did. For it, and its twenty-one sister rings, were the ‘keys’ that allowed one access to the Gods’ Inner Sanctum; a holy place where the Gods themselves ruled the Theocracy when they still walked among humanity.

Even without such rings though, His Holiness was powerful enough.

While still a far cry from Zesshi’s strength, if she was Certain Death then His Holiness was Divine Wrath. In his youth, when he was a member of the Black Scripture, he fought the Coffin Dragon Lord twice, both times wounding the creature to such an extent it was forced to withdraw. His command of divine magic was beyond comparison. So much so that he was capable of utilizing magic of the seventh tier with little difficulty. Angels responded to his beck and call,and he could cast such resplendent light that hordes of night wraiths would crumble before his radiance.

Fitting for a godkin descendant of Alah Alaf, the God of Life and avatar of Light.

“Your Holiness,” The Captain knelt before him, “you summoned me?”

“A little formal, don’t you think? After all, I haven’t even been coronated yet,” Castylan chuckled at the Captain’s deference, gesturing for him to rise. “I could lose the election tomorrow.”

“As you say, Your Holiness,” it was hard to keep the smile off his lips at the theatrics of it all.

“Now, as much as I would love to say I summoned you to subject you to my horrid attempts at humor, I am afraid the topic at hand is far from lighthearted.” Castrum beckoned the Captain forward. “What can you tell me about the vampire you fought, this ‘Shall Tear’, that caused the tip of the Theocracy’s spear, the Black Scripture, to retreat?”

“Your Holiness?” The question confused the young man. “Is my report lacking in sufficient detail?”

“Oh no,” he brushed off the Captain’s concern. “I don’t doubt the validity or accuracy of your report, I just want to hear about the encounter in a more casual manner.”

While he still didn’t understand the purpose of this, he obeyed. “To begin with, and with all due respect, the vampire’s name is pronounced as Shalltear, Your Eminence. And as for the fight, it was hardly a battle as much as it was a slaughter.” He grimaced as he recalled the encounter. “We engaged some of her familiars at first, drawing her to our location. Seeing an opportunity to secure a powerful weapon for the Theocracy, I ordered Lady Kaire to use Downfall of Castle and Country upon the creature. We failed, Shalltear killed the Eighth and Ninth Seats, and mortally wounded Lady Karie before the mind control could be fully set. It was my decision to pull back… which led to us losing Downfall of Castle and Country later to the masked woman.”

“Horrible business,” His Holiness tsked at the loss of such a powerful artifact. “On the matter of the masked woman, you may be pleased to hear that I have tasked the Clearwater Scripture to make discovering her location their top priority.”

“If I may be so bold-“

“The search has yielded nothing as of yet,” Castylan interrupted to answer the Captain’s question. “Given the magical means in which she secured the relic we have no way of knowing where the artifact now is, let alone where she is. I have no doubt we shall pick up her trail soon enough, either from her actions or sloppiness on her part. Rest assured, you will have a chance to take your revenge against the masked woman… so long as she is taken into custody by the end of it.”

“Yes, Your Holiness,” despite his assurances, the Captain wasn’t certain he would even be capable of bringing that woman in alive. More likely she kill herself if capture was unavoidable simply to spite her would-be captors.

Regardless of her capture and… usefulness to the Theocracy, the power of Downfall of Castle and Country was too dangerous to have beyond their means. Forget about controlling dangerous creatures, the Gods only know how much damage that woman could cause were she to ensnare the Bloody Emperor into her thrall or the devastation she may wrought if the Elf King became her puppet.

“But the masked woman was not the reason I summoned you,” Castylan brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Regarding the vampire, did any of your team have the impression that she was one of a larger coven? Or did the masked woman give any indication that there were dark creatures in the nearby woods?”

“No, Your Holiness,” he shook his head. “Beyond the vampire, her familiars, and the horde of wraiths the masked woman summoned, there was nothing out of the ordinary in those woods.”

Castylan was silent for a moment, then sighed, “A pity then.”

“Your Holiness?” the Captain asked in confusion. Was the fact there was nothing else dangerous in the woods was an issue?

Pinching the ridge of his nose, Castylan fished out a folder from the depths of his drawer. “Tell me, are you familiar with an adventurer team called Darkness?”

“I-No, Your Holiness,” the Captain replied, curious about the sudden pivot. He never paid much mind to the workings of the Adventurer’s Guild beyond the knowledge of the strongest Adamantine ranked teams.

“They’re quite the interesting team,” Castylan continued, sliding a packet to the young Black Scripture Captain. “Have a gander, it’s an enlightening read.”

“I’m afraid I don't understand, Your Holiness,” the Captain accepted the packet and flipped through the document regardless of his skepticism of the point of it all. Skimming the papers, the two things that immediately stood out were their rank, adamantine, and their team’s size, two people.

“They are an Adamantine team consisting of two adventures,” the Pontiff summarized aloud. “The leader being a man named Momon, styling himself as the Dark Warrior, with his assistant being a woman known as Nabe,” he watched the Captain read through the packet, suddenly much more interested in the packet regarding such a highly ranked team he had just now heard about. “As noted in these documents procured by our agents in the Guild, they are the newest adamantine ranked group active in Re-Estize. Quite the prodigal rise, considering they only started their careers a month ago.”

“A month?” the Captain questioned the speed aloud, skimming through the known achievements of the group: exterminating a horde of ogres, taming the Wise King of the Forest, stopping the Zurrernorn attack on E-Rathel, a list of exotic and dangerous creatures they have slain that seemed too ridiculous to be believed.

“Read the second to last achievement on the creatures list,” was all His Holiness replied to the Captain’s outburst.

Flipping the page, he came across the line: Slayed the she-vampire Honyopenyoko in the region of E-Rathel.

He could hardly hold in his scowl at the mention of a vampire near-

Wait…

He checked the date to make sure he wasn’t jumping to conclusions. It matched his team’s battle with Shalltear.

“There was another one?”

“The Clearwater Scripture’s initial findings lean towards no,” His Holiness raised his hand to cut off the Captain's train of thought. “As far as their investigation shows there was only one vampire in those woods, the one you and Black Scripture fought and fled from: the beast Shalltear.”

A vampire in the same area as the one he fought and took on the entire Black Scripture. It’s physical description, according to the Guild report filled out by Darkness, was that of a small woman with pale features, white hair, red eyes, and dark clothing, mirroring that of Shalltear’s appearance after she had been rendered passive following the failed use of Downfall of Castle and Country.

There was also a small note just below the confirmation which stated that while the beast had been slain, no physical evidence could be provided as she ‘turned to dust and blew away into the wind’ after being killed.

It didn’t take long for the Captain to put the pieces together.

“They’re in league with one another,” it was the only reasonable conclusion he could reach. “Either Darkness was so incompetent they failed to notice the other vampire in the area they fought in, or, as we are in agreement with, there is no other vampire. Honyopenyoko and Shalltear are one in the same, and this adventurer team is in league with a dreadfully dark creature.”

While there could be another explanation, the more he thought about it the more holes the Captain found in the whole endeavor from the adventuring team.

Perhaps the incomplete use of Castle and Country rendered the beast passive and it did not defend itself when Darkness attacked.

But then how was one adventurer not a member of team Darkness who confronted it with them killed? To hog all the glory for themselves and make the battle seem more impressive?

But then why not bring the vampire’s remains back with them, either as a trophy or as something to sell to a magical research group for additional money?

Nothing added up.

“Could you do it?” The Pontiff questioned, “Given a month, could you perform a similar collection of feats?”

“Are you saying that these two are godkin?” Even if they were godkin, how could they succeed where the entire Black Sculpture, armed with divine weapons, failed?

“Maybe,” the Pontiff expressed his own uncertainty. “While every indication points to yes, we need a… second opinion on the matter. You will confront this pair and make a final analysis one way or the other.”

“Your Holiness?” Did he hear that right?

“Do not look at me as if I’ve grown a second head,” Castrum waved off the Captain’s expression. “Go to him with some of the Black Scripture and ascertain the validity of these claims of strength by any means necessary. Challenge them to a duel, approach them as fans, aspiring adventurers, workers, whatever you need to get close and see his strength first hand. This is to be your task.”

“Is this not a task better suited for the Clearwater Scripture?” They were the primary intelligence gathering organization of the Theocracy. While the Thousand Leagues Astrologer was capable of far greater feats of intelligence gathering, as she was but a single person she lacked the sheer versatility that came from a dedicated organization. Where she had depth, they had breadth.

“At the moment, they are spread too thin. In the time it takes for them to appropriately investigate the matter it may be too late to do anything,” Castylan rubbed his temple in frustration. “Besides, the adventurers are hardly hiding themselves. The Dark Warrior is quite the boastful one, always exalting his own achievements at every opportunity. From the currently seen path of towns Darkness has been sighted in, their path is inevitably set towards Re-Estize itself. Barring any sudden changes, you shall go there and await their arrival. If they do make a sudden change, I have little doubt you’ll hear about it in the taverns before you are sent a missive about it.”

“You’re Holiness, I… If Darkness is working in league with the masked woman and the vampire, would I not be at risk of being… compromised?” The Captain felt a shiver go down his back at the implication of being turned into a puppet to be used against the Theocracy.

The Pontiff smirked, “I would hardly dispatch you had we not the means to counter Downfall of Castle and Country,” pulling out a small ornate box from beside his desk, he flicked open the latch to show what it held. A brilliant broach with a gemstone of unknown origin, the colors constantly changing before his eyes like water and oil mixing together. His Holiness tapped the gem, “this will protect you from the artifact’s mind control effects.”

“What is it?” He leaned in to examine the gemstone, amazed something- anything really, could shield one from the mind controlling effects of the godly relic while staring at the almost hypnotic hue of colors in the stone itself.

“Kaleidoscopic Prism, another holy relic from the Gods meant to protect the wearer from the effects of such relics like Downfall of Castle and Country,” Castylan answered. Closing the box, he pushed it towards the Captain. “With this on your person, the artifact will hold no sway over you. It also has some more passive beneficial effects on the wearer, but they are of little consequence compared to safeguarding your mind.”

With parting words exchanged, the Captain soon exited the Pontiff’s study, ornate box in hand. He would have to figure out who would be accompanying him to Re-Estize, decide what their story if pressed would be, contingencies for possible conflict with potential godkin and more.

It was as the Pontiff said, there was much work to be done.

Castylan sighed as the young man left.

Events are progressing at a disconcerting pace.

First the Sunlight Scripture disappears after encountering an unknown magic caster around a backwater village near E-Rathel, then two adventurers show up in E-Rathel and have the single most meteoric rise in rank in the Adventurer Guild’s history, with said raise being predicated on the death of a vampire that could drive off a godkin and the Black Scripture in a forest near E-Rathel, and a masked woman with powerful black magic intercepts said retreating Scripture and steals Downfall of Castle and Country.

And beyond these new threats were the more mundane issues to contend with.

The beastmen invasion of the Dragon Kingdom, that bulwark that the rest of the civilized world seemed all too happy to forget about.

The succession crisis in the Roble.

Re-Estize’s inevitable collapse, either to be subsumed into the Empire or break into a dozen squabbling domains as the stress of the Bloody Emperor’s annual wars finally saps the kingdom of its last bits of strength.

And to make matters even worse, it was about that time again.

When their kind appears to further throw the world into chaos.

Sighing, Castylan stood up and fiddled with his signet ring. Too fast. Things were simply moving too fast.

This meant he would have to move equally fast. He had to investigate these mysterious and powerful figures who have seemingly appeared from a puff of thin air, shore up the Dragon Kingdom with more aid to ward of the beastmen, end this wasteful war with the Elf Kingdom to free up more military forces, move pieces and agents around the courts of Roble to keep the Holy Kingdom from ripping itself apart, and come up with contingencies for when Re-Estize does collapse.

All the while with the added pressure of them appearing to pour fuel onto a dozen smaller flames.

The true enemy of the Gods and mankind.

The entities known as Players.

According to the Sealed Epochs, written by the God of Death Surshana himself before his death, they are beings who originate from a realm beyond mortal means to travel to. A realm only the Gods themselves were privy to. A place beyond reach, yet endlessly traversed by beings who played in an endless series of wars and slaughter with one another with gleeful abandon.

They are beings of pure chaos, with moral alignments alien to most mortal minds.

One need to look no further than the Eight Greed Kings to see the danger wrought by Players in the world, killing the last of the Gods, exterminating the vast majority of non-human races, building up a new civilization, bringing the world to heel, expanding the use of tier magic beyond the bounds of what even the Great Gods had done, all before turning on one another in a petty display of greed and violence that destroyed everything they built. Their magnum opus, Eryuentiu, little more than a monument to their vanity and delusions of grandeur.

There was so much to do, and now more than ever did he feel the weight of time bear down on him. But he will endure. If not him, if not one with the God of Life’s blood coursing through his veins, then who?

In the end, there was no sacrifice that was too great, no treachery too small, in the pursuit of protecting mankind from evil.

MidasMan

You hear that dear reader? That soft clicking you heard all chapter? Merely Chekov's gun, getting a few in the chamber ready for the (hopefully) satisfying payoff in the no too distant future.

Come to think of it, with the Black Scripture Captain seeing if Momon is sus or not, he might just make it to Re-Estize in time for the "Demon Emperor's" Invasion. And if Shaltear is off helping her wife Citrinitas with her thing in Arwintar. hmmmmm.

As for Castylan's strength. I'd say he's physically the weakest godkin, but the strongest caster (think lvl 60 or so). He can cast powerful magic thanks in part to his divine heritage, divine artifacts from his progenitor, and bullshit cash shop items.